


Voyage

by enbookcased



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bang Chan is Whipped, Bottom Seo Changbin, Closeted Character, Established Relationship, Fluff, I just wanted to write boys in love, Lee Felix is Whipped (Stray Kids), Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Multi, Oral Sex, Purple Prose, Seasickness, Seo Changbin is Whipped, Strangers to Lovers, Switch Bang Chan, Synesthesia, Top Lee Felix (Stray Kids), discussions of coming out, dubious descriptions of Australian landmarks due to author's terrible memory, however this is not PWP, please excuse the almost total lack of plot, semi-vague descriptions of sex acts, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbookcased/pseuds/enbookcased
Summary: They were a beautiful contrast, sunshine and moonlight over the sea. Felix the bright red of closed eyelids as a face tipped up to the sun. Changbin all silver, a bathing light with the world at its darkest.Chan could feel himself falling. He didn’t even try to stop it.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Bang Chan/Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, Bang Chan/Seo Changbin, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 48
Kudos: 204
Collections: STRAY KIDS MV FICFEST





	Voyage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [SKZ MV Ficfest](https://twitter.com/skzmvfest). My chosen MV was Mixtape #4. Elements I pulled from the MV: the Monumental Steps at the Sydney Opera House, Sydney Harbor, their outfits (particularly Chan’s), playing around in nature, all the Changlix. 
> 
> Y’all have no idea how much Iron & Wine and Sigur Ros I listened to while writing this. Also a couple of Hyunjin’s VLives (even though he doesn’t even appear in this fic wtffff is wrong with me. Uh, thanks for helping a bro out?)
> 
> This is the most heavy-handed thing I’ve ever written. Sparse it is not. Also I erred on the side of caution with the rating.
> 
> Note: A character gets seasick towards the beginning of the story. If you'd rather not read that part, it starts at, "The wind was welcoming." Skip down to "Chan led Changbin to one of the benches inside," and you should be good.

“Chan!” his mother called from the bottom of the stairs. “Are you ready?”

Chan sighed, staring at the single piece of paper in his hand, before crumpling it up and tossing it in the direction of his trash can. It missed, but it was out of sight enough to ease the tension in his shoulders some. “I’ll be right down!”

It was a beautiful, warm morning in March, around 22 degrees, enough that Chan had to remind his family visiting from Korea that they didn’t need the light sweaters or jackets they insisted upon bringing with them everywhere. He himself had a new shirt on, a button down that showed off his favorite necklace (and his collarbones) when he left the top two buttons undone. It was green, but it was a dark enough green that Chan felt comforted enough by it, even if it wasn’t black. They needed to leave soon, or they were going to miss the first part of the performance. And no, Auntie, he didn’t _need_ to button up, he wasn’t showing off anything with his shirt laying the way it was.

Ten minutes later and they were finally leaving the house, Chan tugging on the now done-up top buttons. “You look so handsome, so modest,” Auntie said, all pale lilac and soft, warm beige, patting his cheek. Chan sighed but smiled as he led her toward the car.

\--

“What play are we seeing again?” Auntie asked Chan as they shuffled into their row to find their seats, just at curtain call.

“It’s an opera, Auntie,” Chan reminded her in Korean, glancing down at the playbill. “’Lucia de Lammermoor,’ I guess. It’s Italian, with English subtitles.”

“Oh, good,” she said, her little wrist wrapped securely around his elbow. “I won’t understand either of them. Maybe I can catch a nap.”

Chan bark out a laugh, loud in the space. His parents gave him scandalized looks. He patted Auntie’s hand.

The opera was… a lot bloodier than he had expected, but it was enjoyable. At intermission, Chan was sent out to get snacks and drinks for the family.

In front of him in the snack line were a pair of guys, one back-hugging the other, one blonde and one black-haired, talking quietly amongst themselves. Chan really wasn’t paying them much mind until the black-haired one tipped his head back and laughed, and suddenly it was neon pink everywhere. It was a loud and unique laugh, unlike anything Chan had ever heard before. It made the blonde turn his head and smile widely, nose crinkle and all and—wow. Okay, so the blonde guy was gorgeous.

The black-haired guy also turned around, ostensibly to return the favor of a back-hug, and his gaze caught Chan’s. He was also pretty, albeit in a different way, but Chan couldn’t help but notice his eyes widen behind his big, round glasses before he quickly turned back around. Chan also couldn’t help but notice the way the tips of his ears looked like they might be getting warm.

He _also_ couldn’t help but overhear when Glasses muttered, in Korean, to his—uh, boyfriend? friend? —“You have _got_ to see the guy behind us,” the pink deepening into a sensual purple.

The blonde pressed his face into the other guy’s shoulder, before peeking discreetly at Chan. Chan, to his credit, managed to pull his gaze away, pretending to look at the menu tacked to the wall.

He heard giggling again and looked back at the couple in time to hear, again in Korean, “He’s kind of cute. You’re cuter,” from the blonde, who had a surprisingly deep voice tinged in gold, Chan realized. In his mind their colors skirted each other but never blended, just wove in and out of one another like a dance.

The line shuffled forward, splitting off in front of the two attendants, and once Chan was laden down with everything he had been sent to order, he turned around and realized the pair was gone.

Moving back to his seat, Chan distributed the refreshments and craned his neck, looking around him for a black and a blonde head, but he was unsuccessful. Frowning, he faced forward as the lights dimmed once more.

\--

Blinking into the sunlight after spending over two hours in a dim theatre was more painful than Chan thought it would be. He opted out of the little photoshoot happening in front of the opera house and instead started skipping down the Monumental Steps. Usually crowded, it wasn’t so bad that day, probably the usual number of tourists. The sun had officially made its presence known, and it was much warmer than when they had arrived. Looking behind him to make sure he was out of his family’s eyesight, Chan reloosened the buttons on his shirt, breathing a sigh of relief. Better.

“Ah, that’s just unfair,” he heard behind him. “He was pretty before, now he’s just hot.”

“Hyung!!”

“What? I can’t help it; you know how I feel about blondes.”

Chan turned, stopping on the steps and— “Oh. Hello,” he said. In English. Not even thinking about it.

“Hi!” said the blonde cheerily, the gold of his voice from before brightening into a yellow that could rival the sun. “You were in the concession line, right? Did you enjoy the play?” In perfect English, no foreign accent detected.

“Yeah, it was really good. Bloody,” Chan commented, smiling at the pair. He noticed the black-haired kid dip behind the blonde. He also noticed the handhold. “Did you both like it?”

“I know what I’d like,” he heard Glasses mutter in Korean. Blondie elbowed him.

“Sorry, he doesn’t speak much English. Yes, we enjoyed the opera a lot! It was very dramatic.” The smile Blondie sent his way seemed to show all his teeth. Chan was smitten.

He stuck out his hand. “I’m Chris.”

“Felix.” The hand in his was _small_. Delicate. Chan liked it a whole lot. “This is Changbin.”

Changbin’s handshake was awkward and brief. Chan really liked how red his ears were becoming. “Are you from Sydney?”

“ _I_ am,” Felix said, pointing to himself. “Changbin-hyung is visiting from Korea.”

“Welcome to Australia!” Chan greeted probably a little more cheerily than he explicitly needed to. Changbin smiled and nodded at him, a sort of almost bow, and Chan found it way more charming than he probably should have.

“Thank you,” he replied in heavily accented English and, oh my God, Chan wanted to scoop this boy up and have him for dinner. “Do you speak Korean?”

“Hmm? Oh, not really, no.” The relief that entered Changbin’s eyes at that was worth the lie, really it was. Chan could let Changbin think he hadn’t understood all the salacious things he’d been saying. There was no need to embarrass the poor guy.

“Ah.” Changbin gave a sheepish smile, the kind that made the dimple in his cheek stand out and goddammit, that was cute as hell. Did Chan want to turn this kid upside down and see what he tasted like or did he want to pass notes to him in gym class? Probably both. “It’s nice to meet you, Chris.” Oh fuck, no, the way he said his name, with his accent. Chan was captivated.

Felix giggled again, another captivation. Chan was being taken hostage by the two most adorable boys he’d ever met in his life. What the hell was happening to him? “It’s nice to meet you, too, Changbin.”

And then, in perfect Korean, Gyeonggi dialect no less: “Byungchan-ah! We’re ready to head to the ferry!” Like purple bullets shot through the air, sharp and disrupting.

All three boys froze where they were standing, Chan sheepishly, Felix and Changbin in confusion.

Auntie placed a hand on Chan’s arm, tsking up at him. “Byungchan-ah, what have you done to your shirt again? I said that’s far too much skin. Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” Tiny, bony hands buttoned Chan back up to his puritanical status and his cheek was patted again before wise old owl eyes settled on the boys in front of them.

Chan winced. The proverbial cat wasn’t just out of the bag, it was bathing its tail and judging him harshly. “Auntie Younghee, this is Felix and Changbin,” he introduced in his own flawless Korean. “They attended the opera as well.”

Changbin was cute before, but the mortified blush that was crawling its way across his features made him perhaps more endearing. Both boys bowed deeply to the small ahjumma, murmuring their greetings. Changbin shot Chan a look that he didn’t know enough about the guy to interpret completely. He imagined that if he could, it would be rather unflattering, but the tilt at the corners of his mouth gave Chan hope. Perhaps he hadn’t just blown his chances to smithereens.

“Your parents want to take the ferry across the harbor next,” said Auntie. “Why don't your friends join us?”

“Oh no, we couldn't impose--"

“That'd be lovely,” Chan interjected, a pleading look on his face as he turned to Changbin and Felix. “Please do join us.”

Changbin looked hesitant, but Felix nudged him, smiling. “We'd love to,” Changbin said politely after a brief hesitation, bowing, his words colored a dark eggplant that made Chan think of shadowy corners. “Thank you for having us.”

\--

“So,” Felix side-eyed Chan, “Byungchan, huh?”

Chan sighed. “Please, just call me Chan.”

“It's okay, Yongbokkie hates his name, too.” Changbin looked over from Felix's other side. “Not everyone can have a sexy name like mine.”

“Byungchan is a sexy name,” Felix protested, then ducked his head as he caught Chan’s eye. “But Chan is nice, too.”

The wind was welcoming, blowing across their heated skin and ruffling their hair. Chan closed his eyes and faced the sun, basking in it for just a moment. Until he heard Felix mutter, “Uh oh,” next to him.

“I think Changbin’s a little seasick,” he explained.

Changbin did look a little green in the face. Before either of them could react, however, he lurched to the rail. Aside from the abundant sea life living in the waters, Sydney Harbor now also contained whatever breakfast Changbin had eaten that morning.

“You okay, man?” Chan asked, rubbing soothing circles on Changbin’s back.

Changbin, surprisingly, tucked into Chan's side. Felix frowned sympathetically down at him. “I’ll go get you some water, okay?”

Chan led Changbin to one of the benches inside, where he had Changbin lay down with his head in his lap. If it were one of his friends or siblings, Chan would have already been playing with their hair. As it was, Chan kept his hands (mostly) to himself, though he itched to touch and comfort Changbin. He felt so strangely drawn to these two boys. 

Felix returned and Changbin shifted over to him. Chan watched Felix pet and soothe his boyfriend and felt a pang of something—longing? want? both? —thrum through him.

“How long is your boyfriend staying in Sydney?” Chan asked after a few minutes of easy silence.

“Monday. This weekend is our last together for a while,” Felix answered, his usual yellow deepening down to a brilliant sunset gold. He cast a fond smile down at Changbin, who appeared to be sleeping, carding fingers through his hair just like how Chan had wanted to, Changbin’s hat lying next to him on the bench. “I’m not ready for him to go yet. I’ll probably never be.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“How else? The internet. He makes music, and a mutual friend of ours suggested I use one of his beats for a dance I was choreographing for a YouTube video. It just evolved from there. This is the third time we’ve met up, though. Twice he flew me to Korea. I finally convinced him to come here so we could do all the touristy stuff together. Isn’t it funny how you live in a place and never do any of the noteworthy stuff?”

Chan caught the wording but didn’t comment. Just how loaded was this kid? Instead, he said, “Been together a long time?”

Felix’s smile was steeped in love, even Chan could see that. He brushed fingers through Changbin’s bangs. “This is our one-year anniversary.”

Chan’s mouth opened, but he didn’t know what to say. Wow. “Congratulations. Honestly, can’t relate.”

“No pretty thing at home?”

Chan sighed. “No one at the moment.”

Felix pouted, turning his delicate features cute. Chan was continually smacked in the face with his duality. “A shame, to be sure.”

“Shame,” Chan echoed, feeling off his footing.

Changbin shifted in Felix’s lap, breaking the moment. “Is it over yet?” he groaned, a sickly grey-green, planting his face in Felix’s abdomen, his glasses going askew as he stretched out along the bench.

“Almost back to the pier, you big baby,” Felix teased. “Think you can manage walking off the ferry or am I going to have to get Chan here to carry you?”

“Oh, look, I seem to have lost all the feeling in my legs, how unfortunate,” said Changbin, flashing a wolfish grin over at Chan.

\--

They managed to get Changbin to the rail in time to see the Badu Gili. Changbin oohed and ahhed appropriately over the lights illuminating the sails of the opera house, telling the story of the First Nations peoples in all their colorful glory. They ended up walking back with Chan and his family, parting at the car park with a soft wave and plans to meet up the next day to hike the Three Sisters.

Chan stared down at his phone, at the two names that graced the top of his contacts, marked *NEW*, Felix’s name in English, Changbin’s in Hangul. Light and dark. Day and night. Sun and moon.

Meeting them on the steps of the Sydney Opera House had been a windfall for Chan; he’d been feeling lost, adrift, as he tried to figure his life out, and now at least he had something to look forward to. Even if it was only for a day or two.

\--

They met at the bottom of the mountain path, Changbin and Felix looking fresh and young and in love, their colors bright and dancing around them as they joked and laughed, but they never made Chan feel like he was intruding. If anything, they made him feel like he was a foregone conclusion, keeping him between them, touching, staying close, hands on backs and arms and wrists. For once, he didn’t mind the presumption, welcomed it even.

He himself had his favorite black hoodie on, indistinguishable from his other six black hoodies, but it was softer, and the sleeves fell just right to give him perfect sweater paws.

The picnic Felix produced like magic from his backpack was well-timed with the brilliant sunset, and the three ate staring up at the cut of the triad mountains against the orange sky. Every time Felix took a drink from his Contigo, their shoulders knocked together, and Chan really didn’t mind.

“So what’s your passion?” Changbin asked during a lull.

Chan paused from where he’d been pulling up grass between the fingers of one hand. “Um. Music, I guess.”

That caught both their attention. “You make music, too?” Changbin asked, wonder clear in his voice.

Chan smiled. “Yeah. Felix told me that’s how you and he met.”

“What kind of music?” The _interest_. It had been so long since Chan had spoken face-to-face with someone else who didn’t just humor his excited rambling.

“Nothing fantastic. I just fuck around on Garage Band. Got a Soundcloud, though.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna have to pass that to me, then. We can trade shitty beats.”

“Bet.”

Chan smiled over at Changbin, watched his own answering smile bloom easily, confidently across his face. Watched Changbin bite his lower lip and make desire bolt bodily through Chan.

“We’re taking a trip up the coast on Friday,” Felix began, his voice attracting both Chan and Changbin from their sudden staring contest. “I know we just met and all, but… I don’t know. Would you maybe want to come with us?”

Chan didn’t even have to think. “Yes.”

The looks they both sent his way had pleasant chills going down his back.

\--

Felix had been to Springbrook National Park when he was little and had such fond memories of it that he decided to make it his and Changbin’s (and now Chan’s) next excursion.

They left early in the morning, Felix’s tiny hatchback stuffed as full as they could get it with duffle bags, drinks, and snacks. The ten-hour trip up the coast toward Brisbane passed quicker than Chan thought it would. In the space of the car, they had nothing better to do than learn about and get to know each other better, mainly through Spotify playlists. Chan learned he and Changbin had the most in common with music, both preferring hip hop over Felix’s soft indie rock. Chan and Changbin both agreed they could only take so much Coldplay.

They could all agree on Hozier, though.

He learned that Felix was self-conscious about his freckles, but with Changbin’s help he was learning to love them. He learned that Changbin could take a joke better than he could dole them out.

He learned that Felix was a Comparative Literature major, but what he really wanted to focus on was dance. He learned that Changbin was currently trying to convince his parents that he didn't need to study science in order to become a music producer.

He learned that the first time they kissed was at the top of N Seoul Tower, and they were then promptly asked to leave.

Chan learned that the more he learned about these two, the more he wanted to kiss them.

They reached the resort Changbin had booked ahead of time that afternoon; Chan didn’t even blink at the black card that was slid across the reception desk. They had their own cabin to themselves, complete with a lofted king size bed and a standing shower big enough to fit an entire basketball team inside, plus a futon sofa that looked as if it might have been crafted from candy floss. Chan didn’t miss that there were no doors dividing the spaces, only a wooden spiral staircase. He set his things down on the futon. 

\--

They took turns walking, running and, at times, skipping down the path that led them through the forest and toward the famed cave, the entire reason they had made the long trip. The light from their torches, and from the torches of the groups of people ahead and behind them, bounced off the tall trees and their own bodies and faces in turn, giving an eerie, thrilling undertone to their adventure. Changbin and Felix were generous with their affection, both with each other and with Chan. It felt like at least one of them had to be connected to Chan in some shape or form: a hand on a shoulder; fingers pressed to his lower back; a tug on a wrist; elbows interlaced; pinkie fingers hooked together in a promise. The constant sound of bright, colorful laughter that weaved between the three of them.

They descended the stairs into the glow worm cave with their flashlights turned off and breath held.

It was extraordinary. The waterfall was a true sight to behold. The ceiling was illuminated with what appeared to be hundreds of little points of blue-green light, as bright and vivid as neon.

“It’s so beautiful!” Felix said, awe shading his words. “It’s more magnificent than I remember.”

“It really is amazing,” Chan agreed, looking around.

For a moment, it was quiet between the three of them.

Then: “Have either of you seen Stranger Things?”

“Changbin!”

“Sorry, it just—it reminds me of the Upside Down a little. Only a little!” he cried, that signature neon laughter, holding his hands up in defense as Felix threatened to punch him.

Leaning up against the platform rail, the three of them wedged against each other, in one another’s space as they looked up at the tiny blue-green glow worms dotting the cave ceiling. The sound of the waterfall, paired with all the other night sounds, was strangely soothing. Chan was entranced. Then Felix leaned his small body against Chan’s, and he was entranced for a completely different reason. He felt something tug on his hand and looked over at Changbin, who threaded their fingers together. Then Changbin’s chin was hooked over Chan’s shoulder, the grip of his free hand loose around Chan’s hip.

“It’s so… breathtaking,” Felix sighed, head on Chan’s other shoulder.

“It absolutely is,” he agreed.

\--

When they got back to their cabin, Chan was last in. He closed the door behind him, making sure he got all the locks in place. When he turned back around, it was to Changbin suddenly in front of him, all personal space gone. “Changb—”

“I’m going to kiss you. This is your chance to back out,” he said, matter-of-fact.

Chan just stood there, staring back at him.

Changbin cocked his head, confusion etching his features, making him look intense. “Well?”

“Well, what? You said you were gonna kiss me.”

The smile was small, exasperated, fond, a spark of cool pink that deepened almost immediately into a magenta, and then a silvery indigo so distinct it took Chan’s breath away. “Asshole,” Changbin said, leaning forward. He touched a hand to Chan’s chin, tilting it down just a little. The kiss was soft, sweet; different from what Chan had imagined from Changbin.

Then he pulled back, and Felix was there between them. Another secretive smile, his colors dark, too, a gorgeous complement to Changbin’s. “Let me try.”

This kiss was harsh, biting, sweeter still. Chan found himself pressed against the door, a warm body against his. This kiss was much longer, the sweet pink-brown of Felix's top lip just this side of addicting.

“Bring him to the couch,” Changbin instructed from somewhere further away.

Felix complied immediately, still with that smile as he pulled Chan by the hand toward the small living area. The only light in the whole of the cabin were some faerie lights strung along the loft railing, just enough to cast a faint warm glow over everything. They illuminated the apple of Changbin’s cheeks, and the fact that somewhere along the way he’d shed his shirt.

There was so much skin on display, Chan didn’t know where to put his hands first. Changbin’s shoulders were defined, the dips of his clavicles cast in shadow, and Chan wanted to lick them, wanted to trace his fingers over the thick swell of his arms. Wanted to run his tongue over everything. Wanted so much, everything at once.

Changbin seemed to sense how overwhelmed Chan was becoming and took the decision away from him. He reached out and pulled Chan down next to him on the couch before pressing him back and straddling Chan’s waist. This kiss was different still from the others before it, a plush mouth that captured Chan’s, sucking his bottom lip between teeth and tugging. Chan surged up, wrapping his arms around Changbin’s small, sturdy waist, the warm skin thrilling him down to his toes. He mapped his fingers along the soft curves, the unblemished skin, so gorgeous and just there for the taking. Changbin leaned back and let Chan have his fill, undulating his hips minutely. When Chan looked up, his mouth latched around one of Changbin’s nipples, it was to see Felix standing behind Changbin, Changbin’s arm up and around his shoulder, both of them open-mouthed with clear desire, gazes locked on Chan. Changbin was steadily leaking sounds that made his aura a deep, fathomless blue, like the depths of the ocean, shifting around all of them. Chan dared to bite down and the blue deepened further. He could still see it even when he closed his eyes.

“We want to lay you out and take our time with you,” Felix said, voice gone so low, so enigmatically deep, raw with want. Chan let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Do you want that?”

Chan was beginning to think it was impossible to give these two any other answer. “Yes.”

\--

The bed was pale and as soft as clouds.

Changbin laid back, naked, his skin and hair and eyes dark against the white, his nipples brown, body hair conspicuously absent. He looked relaxed and ripe for the taking, arm behind his head, armpit on full display, cock so prettily following the line of his gently defined V cut. Chan felt more like he fell into him than laid on the bed, reveling in the noise Changbin made as Chan buried his head in his chest. The clean smell of freshly washed sheets (nothing stale or pre-slept in, not at this price point, Chan guessed) and soap mixed with skin greeted him as he tucked himself into Changbin and melted there, Changbin’s arms wrapping around him gladly. For a moment, they just floated.

He felt more than heard Felix approach, a dip in the bed that could only be a knee, another, then the warm, soft heaviness of another body on top of his, skin-to-skin. Felix’s cock nestled perfectly between Chan’s ass cheeks, as if it were meant to be there, and Chan turned his head to accept the kiss that landed haphazardly on his mouth, his jaw. They kept him like that, molded between them, touching, feeling, reacting in kind as he touched back.

Felix’s cock grew, becoming thick and heavy and Chan couldn’t help but rock against it, oscillating his hips in a slow grind, panting as he felt the ridge of the head against his hole. He’d never, but if they were willing, so was he. He’d give them anything he had to give, these two fever dreams that kept him warm and safe between them, letting their love wash over him, even if it wasn’t meant to include him. Even if it was just for now.

Changbin tugged Chan’s face up and kissed him like he wanted to leave an imprint, like he wanted to make it _hurt_ _good_. The hand that was so claiming on his jaw moved down, mapping a path down his body that burned as it went along, Chan twitching and sighing and jerking at each touch. Finally, Changbin’s hand closed over Chan’s dick, and palmed it like something precious. Chan tilted his head back, sighing at the relief of finally being touched where he needed it most, rolling back into Felix. The kiss was all-consuming, lighting him on fire. He was a candle burning at both ends, bright and hot and melting too fast, these two irresistible creatures holding him down, touching him everywhere, kissing him _everywhere_ , it was too much but it was also just enough, and when Chan spilled, he—

Tight.

Hot.

He let go on Changbin’s belly, come pooling into his navel as he cried and convulsed above him, Felix’s finger deep inside him. Chan, arms wobbling, nearly collapsed on top of Changbin until Felix guided him back with an arm around his midsection and soft, cooing words in his ear. “It’s okay, we’ve got you. We’ve always got you, Chan.”

Chan lay back, satiated, and watched them through half-open eyes, one hand lazily tracing whatever skin he could come into contact with. They were a beautiful contrast, sunshine and moonlight over the sea. Felix the bright red of closed eyelids as a face tipped up to the sun. Changbin all silver, a bathing light with the world at its darkest. Together, they were art, curled into each other, Changbin gasping into Felix’s mouth as Felix thrust into him, as Changbin came, his come covering Chan’s on his belly.

Chan could feel himself falling. He didn’t even try to stop it.

\--

Chan found out that it was a good thing he had agreed to tag along, because he was the only competent cook among them. Felix was a decent baker, but he had almost no stovetop skills. Chan liked to tease them that they’d have been stuck eating cookies and brownies the entire weekend without him, but neither Changbin nor Felix saw that as a bad thing. To be honest, neither did Chan.

But something Felix swore he was confident in was his ability to make various breakfast foods.

They were giggling, covers pulled over their heads, legs entangled as they faced one another. Felix was downstairs making something he was refusing to reveal (“It’s a surprise!”) but _definitely_ smelled like pancakes. Chan and Changbin couldn't be fussed to get out of bed yet. Instead they kicked at and tickled and wrestled each other, like two little kids left unsupervised in their parents’ bedroom.

Chan had just gained the upper hand, Changbin’s hands pinned above his head, when Changbin went limp underneath him, surrendering. Chan let go and for a while they just lay like that, Chan's head on Changbin's chest, comfortable and warm. When they spoke, they did it in whispers, the entire moment stretching out between them like a secret.

“Ah, Channie-hyung, why did you pretend you didn't understand me when we first met?” Changbin asked, fingers skimming atop Chan's bare shoulders. The ‘hyung’ caught Chan off-guard like it had all weekend, but he was finding more and more that he liked it.

Chan hiked an eyebrow. “You _wanted_ me to overhear the things you'd been saying?”

Changbin shrugged, smile on his mouth. “Why not? They were all true.”

“Bold of you to say _now_.”

“Ah,” embarrassment warmed Changbin’s words, “It is, isn't it?”

It was quiet for a moment, just the sound of their breathing and the sound and smell of food sizzling wafting from over the railing.

“Are you out to your family?” Changbin asked. Chan looked up at him, but all he could see was the cut of his jaw, his cheek, a shadow of an eye socket.

“I’m out to my immediate family, yeah. I don’t think Auntie knows, though she might suspect. When I told them where I was headed for the weekend and who with, she told me to take care of you both.”

Changbin drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, making Chan move with him. There was something so intimate in the movement, lying there atop Changbin as he breathed them both in, the shape of his pectoral against Chan’s cheekbone, his nipple small and brown, areola pebbled. Chan could feel that Changbin was gathering his courage, and so he waited, breath held.

“My parents have no clue. They call Felix my ‘best friend.’” Changbin’s voice was quiet. It was no longer a can-you-keep-a-secret-cerulean whisper, it was now a dull, flat grey. “Felix’s family knows.” The grey lightened at that, softening back into Changbin’s trademark blue. “They’ve been nothing but kind to me. I’m very appreciative of them. They’ve given me hope that someday…” Changbin let out a shaky breath.

Chan squeezed Changbin tight, and for a while, it was quiet between them, Chan just floating on the wave of Changbin’s chest as it rose and fell with his breathing, while Changbin’s fingers played with his hair. Eyes closed, they just lay there, existing.

Then a clang from downstairs. “Soup’s on!” Felix yelled. “And by soup, I definitely don’t mean pancakes!”

\--

Chan felt like he spent hours learning their bodies. He was determined to kiss every single freckle on Felix’s face, and by the time Sunday came around, although he had made decent headway, he knew there were still some that had escaped his attention.

He also made it his mission to find every tickle spot on both of them. He found out Changbin was especially sensitive under his arm, where some of his softest skin dwelled, just along his rib cage. The back of Felix’s neck was sensitive, as were his feet. Both Changbin and Felix found out via retaliation how Chan couldn’t stand to be tickled behind his elbows or knees.

Chan found out what it was like to be taken apart by Changbin’s fingers, by Felix’s deep moans, by Changbin's insane mouth, by Felix's cock.

He found out that shower sex was a lot more difficult than porn typically let on.

Chan also found out pretty quickly that Felix was a nurturer. He was happiest when he was taking care of someone, which meant he and Changbin were a match made in heaven, because if there was anyone who needed looking after, it was Changbin.

Chan already knew he would be a different story.

He’d been independent for far too long. Though he lived with his parents still, he pulled his weight. He paid rent, chipped in on utilities. He prided himself on being the person other people could go to for assistance. He was proud of the fact that he hadn’t had to ask for help for a long time. It was true that the path he had put himself on had been washed away with one single piece of paper, but he was surviving on his own and that in its own right was admirable. Right?

Felix managed to show him, in barely half a day, that Chan knew nothing about what he really needed. He was able to show Chan on a silver platter that it was okay to ask for help. That it was okay to fail. Even though it was something as simple as a burnt quesadilla, it was okay. It was okay, and it was definitely going to _be_ okay, and nothing had to be so heavy a burden if he didn’t want it to be.

“You burnt _another one_?” Chan said, incredulous.

Felix laughed, the delicate gap between his teeth on adorable display. “It’s a new oven! There’s always an adjustment period whenever there’s unfamiliar stuff involved.” A shrug of his shoulder, so calm, so casual. Chan would have been in agony over wasting the ingredients. “It’s not a waste if I learn, is it?”

“But have you learned anything?”

Felix’s eyes sparkled impishly, his colors as bright and warm as ever. “Me? Oh yeah. This has taught me a lot,” he replied, bumping his hip against Chan’s. “Have you?”

Chan thought about the rejection letter lying crumpled by his bedroom trash can, and he nodded. “Yeah, I think I have. Thanks, Felix.”

Felix beamed up at him.

\--

They spent most of the weekend holed up in their little cabin, only putting clothes on when it was absolutely necessary. Changbin and Felix continued to keep Chan between them, petting and kissing and loving him at all hours of the day. By Sunday, he was exhausted, his body riddled with marks, but he was so, so (tentatively, fragilely) _happy_.

Only a few times did they venture out, once during a summer storm. Slipping, sliding on slick stone and slicker mud, they stumbled down the path leading from their cabin into the woods, laughing and teasing and kissing. They found steps made by nature and laid on them, and they took videos of them laughing with each other's phones. Changbin took a thirty second video that was just Felix sucking Chan's lower lip into his mouth. He took another of him giving Felix a piggyback ride. Another still of all three of them wrestling. They were young, horny, and carefree, and nothing else mattered other than each other's hands and mouths and bodies, at least for the moment.

Once the storm had ebbed to a gentle, misting rain, they also rested. Chan’s wet head was pillowed on Felix’s thigh, Changbin’s on his abdomen where his soaked shirt rode up, as they gazed up at the tall trees, watching the sun filter through and waft dreamily over the three of them, catching on raindrops and creating tiny, fractal rainbows everywhere they looked.

“Do you know how Miles Davis used to record his music?” Changbin asked, apropos of nothing.

Chan shook his head, murmuring in the negative.

“He used to refuse to let each of his musicians hear the others’ parts before they recorded. That pushed them to create a whole song out of just their portion, whether it was bass, drums, guitar, piano. All they had to go on was a metronome.”

Chan’s brows drew together. “That sounds… lonely.”

Changbin paused. “I never really thought of it that way. But the method inspired some really great performances out of people. Anyway, I’ve sort of adapted that method. I just create these individual little bits, right? Only I don’t play back what I create, I just go on to the next bit, and then I patch them all together in the end, see what works and what doesn’t.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Chan said, shaking his head. “I’d forget my original vision if I did that. I have to layer, build upon things, or I’d never get anything done. I’m constantly editing. Everything has to be perfect before I’m satisfied with it and I can move on to the next thing.”

Felix made a contemplative noise above them. “I’m sort of like both of you with my dance. I take pieces, but I build upon and perfect them before I put the whole routine together. Sometimes I get stuck with the transitions, though, because what works for the end of something doesn’t always end up being what’s needed for the start of the next bit. I’ve been criticized most in class for my transitions, but I’m too stubborn to change anything.”

For a moment, it was quiet between them, the forest waking up from the storm around them.

“I think,” Felix said after a while, his face drawn carefully inward, considering. “I think they’re all lonely ways of working.”

\--

They wandered back to the cabin soaked, muddy, Chan with a brilliantly scraped knee he didn't care about, giggling, content. They all three piled into the shower, where Felix went to his knees to clean Chan’s leg and give him the most leisurely blowjob while Changbin washed Chan’s hair.

Afterward, they lay Chan out like an offering. Changbin climbed over and rode him slowly, Chan’s head pillowed in Felix's lap. Felix's cock, lying next to Chan’s head, was framed by downy soft, straight, natural pubic hair, unsculpted, in direct juxtaposition to Changbin. Chan mouthed at it until Felix was groaning over him, quick to tell him he was about to come, but Chan was determined to take every drop on offer.

It was a rainbow of color around him, blue and yellow and red, but also orange and purple and the achingly softest green, like thoughts in his head, swirling, overtaking his senses. He saw Changbin and Felix over top of him, but as if they were behind a curtain, soft and fuzzy, details obscured. Changbin’s kiss was real, though, his mouth burning hot, Felix's even moreso. Chan was left helpless between them, riding their current, shaken to his core.

It’s sex, but it mimicked love so closely that Chan felt tears in the corners of his eyes as Felix let go, as he watched Changbin arch and come over him.

\--

“You can see what now?” Changbin asked, uncapping a bright orange marker. They had found a stash of them in a metal lunch box wedged in the back of Felix’s car. He handed it over to Chan.

Chan accepted the marker and immediately turned to Felix, who was splayed out bare between them. He started drawing a line along his hipbone, making Felix giggle, though he was a good canvas and remained mostly still. “I can see colors.” He rolled his eyes. “I mean, a lot of people can see colors. But I see colors that most people don’t. Usually, it’s when people speak.”

“So synesthesia?” Felix murmured.

“Yeah,” Chan said, surprised. “That’s it exactly.”

“Really?” Changbin.

“That’s so cool!” Felix adjusted his position, propping his head up on his crossed arms so he could look at Chan better. “Do the colors change by mood?”

“Sort of? But people tend to have the same color palette. For example, my Auntie is always light purples: lilacs, lavenders and that sort of thing. Sometimes people just stay on one end of the spectrum. Like you,” Chan traded out his orange marker for a yellow one. “You, Felix, stay mainly in warm tones, but.” He drew a sun on Felix’s thigh. “You’re mostly yellow.”

Felix looked down at the little sun and then up at Chan. That smile. Fuck.

“Ooh, do me, do me,” Changbin said giddily, bouncing gently from his crossed leg position on the futon. He held out his arm.

Chan took it gingerly, holding up a blue marker. “Are you surprised?” he asked, when he drew a crescent moon over the faint blue veins of Changbin’s wrist. “You’re blue. Sometimes purple, a lot of times silver, but mostly blue.”

Changbin was quiet as he drew his arm back, looking down at the little moon with a cloud drifting across it. “Isn’t blue usually associated with being sad?”

Felix made a soft noise, pulling Changbin’s arm to him. He placed his hand on his own hip, moon next to sun. “I don’t think that’s what Chan meant by you being blue, Binnie.”

It was magical, watching the realization dawn over Changbin’s face, Felix’s answering smile, so soft and fond. Changbin bent down; the kiss when their lips met was incandescent. Chan squinted, looking away, feeling a tightness in his chest.

“Can you see your own colors?” Changbin asked after a while.

Chan shook his head. “No. I’ve tried, but.” He shrugged.

He looked away; he didn’t want to see the looks of sympathy he knew they were going to send his way. The hug they enveloped him in, bodies piling atop his, was more than welcome, however.

\--

Chan woke Sunday morning to a silvery dawn, a line of heat on one side of him but not on the other. He lifted his head and saw it was just him and Changbin in the bed; Changbin was curled toward him, hands tucked under his chin and looking so small and sweet, long eyelashes dusting his cheeks and mouth parted just so. For a moment, Chan just watched him, his heart thumping dully in his chest. He looked beautiful bathed in the pale light, all silver as if he contained the moon inside his skin. Changbin seemed both background and forefront, steady and always there, even if it wasn’t immediately apparent to Chan.

He’d fallen so hard.

Slipping out of bed, Chan shivered at the cold air of the room. He was so tempted to tuck back in with Changbin where it was warm, a safe haven. But he was curious where Felix had wandered off to, and so he shrugged on a pair of shorts and a hoodie he found abandoned on the staircase railing, smiling at the memory of Felix shrugging it off the night before. It had been the only thing on his upper half, and Chan had watched Changbin walk his fingers up Felix’s sides as they were revealed. After all the things they had experienced together in these short few days—all the things they had done—it always caught Chan off-guard how the simplest things were the memories that burned brightest in the back of his mind. The image of Changbin and Felix together would probably stay with him until he died, it was etched so clearly.

He found Felix out on the back porch, a mug of something steaming wafting around him. He was framed in gray, a gentle silver fog from the storm the day before misting the forest floor. He smiled up at Chan, his freckles stark against his cheeks and temples, his eyes bright. Chan had seen him this trip without a smile on his face—freshly woken from sleep, perhaps—but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what that looked like. He made Chan think of comfort and warmth, of cherished memories tucked safely away in a book. A field full of daisies. Sunshine, even when there wasn’t any to be found.

He held out his mug toward Chan.

“I don’t like coffee,” Chan declined, taking a seat next to Felix on the swinging bench. Felix turned the mug; there, on the side, a string and a tag.

“It’s called Wedding Breakfast, if I can count on what it says on the tin.”

Felix’s voice was deeper than usual, the new dawn lowness of chords that hadn’t warmed up to the day yet. It washed sweet and golden over him. Chan was charmed by it, but then, he was charmed by all of Felix. He took the mug and sipped at it; made a surprised noise at the flavors that hit his tongue. “That’s pretty good,” he commented, passing it back, fingers brushing, lingering. Felix tucked himself against Chan when he lifted his arm, and for a long while they said nothing, just sat there watching the fog drift and wind through the trees, comfortable in each other’s space.

The moment wasn’t broken, but splintered just a little when Felix spoke, the butter yellow dimming to something more wan. “Changbin’s flight is tomorrow.”

Chan knew that, no matter how hard he tried to forget. He couldn’t imagine how Felix was feeling. He squeezed his shoulder.

He was absolutely blindsided when Felix next said, “You should come with us to see him off.”

He gaped. “Felix, no, I wouldn’t want to intrude. It’s going to be hard enough for you as it is, the last thing you need is some new acquaintance tagging along, making things awkward.”

“You’re right. It _would_ be awkward, if it were some new acquaintance.” Felix sat up, turning toward Chan, looking him in the face. “But it’s you. And you’re exactly what I’m going to need after I have to say goodbye to my boyfriend again.” His hand on Chan’s arm was so small. “Please, Chan.”

Again, Chan found himself in the position of being unable to deny Felix anything. “Of course.”

\--

The car ride back was subdued, Chan taking point at the wheel. The day had yet to recover, a grey that calmed but still matched them, the sad little trio they were.

Chan’s heart went out to them. He told himself he couldn’t imagine what they were feeling at the moment, but a greedy part of his heart told him that he absolutely could, to some degree.

They both opted to ride in back, Felix’s head on Changbin’s shoulder. Chan pretended not to see the steady drip of tears down Changbin’s face that he was trying so hard to not broadcast. Felix was surprisingly stoic, but his face told the whole story, drawn lines and mouth pointed downwards as he picked at the pilled fabric of his hoodie.

Chan’s heart also lay quiet, his head heavy with his own thoughts. He loved this weekend, probably a little too much, and now it was over. This little blip of happiness, and Chan was back to his indecisive, directionless life. Adrift again.

\--

Chan looked up from his phone when he heard the soft knock on his bedroom door. “Come in.”

The figure that stepped in had him straightening up from his slouched position against his pillows. “Auntie, hello.”

The tiny woman sat down on Chan’s bed, gathering his hand in both of hers. “My current favorite great-nephew.”

Chan cocked an eyebrow. “Only current?”

Auntie pretended to go temporarily hard of hearing. “Byungchan-ah. Your colors have been so dim since you got home. Did you not have a good time on your trip with your young men?”

Chan sighed through his nose, but smiled nonetheless. “I had an amazing time, Auntie. I think that’s the problem.”

“How so?”

“Well,” and he stopped. How the _hell_ was he supposed to explain to his 67-year-old great-aunt that he was falling in love with two people who were already in love with each other? And that one of them was leaving the next day, who knows when to return? And that he was pretty sure to them he was only a nice diversion, a way for them to not focus on the fact that their time together was finite?

How Felix made him feel small and loved unconditionally. How he was down-feather soft, fragility and vulnerability; empathy. How he reminded Chan of his childhood teddy bear, a cup of his favorite tea, of a meadow in springtime. Felix reminded Chan of happiness.

How Changbin was relief from the tension, a squeeze of a shoulder, a back slap, a nod. An arm wrapped around during a scary movie, a chest to hide in, a tuck of hair behind an ear. Changbin was badly suppressed laughter, an in-joke, a shared smile. Changbin reminded Chan of hope.

“Let me have a try,” Auntie ventured thoughtfully. “I’m guessing your two men are already involved, but they’re interested in you as well. Only you don’t know how far their interest travels. Am I on the right track?”

Chan stared, open-mouthed. Auntie laughed, a tinkling, powdery lavender sound. “I’m guessing I didn’t do too badly, then.” She patted Chan’s cheek, her gaze nothing but warm and loving. “I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. But I do know, no matter what happens, my Byungchan is strong, and he always leads with his heart. Stay with your heart.”

\--

The airport was framed by big, fluffy white clouds and the kind of blue sky that almost force-fed serotonin into one’s brain. Around them people were talking, laughing; a few feet away, a joyous reunion was occurring. People were being hugged half to death and swung around. Happy tears were falling.

Tears of a different sort were happening in the colorless little huddle that was Chan, Felix, and Changbin.

Every inch of Felix was pressed against Changbin, hugging him as if they’d been glued together like dusty puzzle pieces. Chan had drove, which meant they spent the entirety of the drive making out, kissing like they’d forget how to do it if they separated for even a moment. Felix was sniffling into Changbin’s neck, and Changbin’s face was one gentle push away from collapsing in on itself, his mouth pulled into a deep frown. He made eye contact with Chan and the devastation was palpable; Chan could feel his own lashes were wet, but he couldn’t look away, searching instead for their colors, but they were so muted it was almost as if they had disappeared altogether.

Felix finally pulled back, inconsolable, leaking everywhere like a crumpled plastic bottle of water. “I promised myself I wasn't going to cry again.” He held his hands to his mouth and he looked so small and anguished, standing there still wholly in Changbin’s space, as if as long as they were breathing the same air, it was all going to be okay, except it already wasn’t.

_“Flight 325 to Seoul will begin boarding…”_

Changbin coughed to clear his throat. “Uh, so that’s me.” His eyes kept flitting down to his hands white-knuckling his backpack and back up to Chan’s face, his backwards snap-back tilted so far back it was a wonder it remained on his head. His bangs pushed into his eyes. No glitter of earrings on either side of his face. Black on black and jeans. Unassuming. Hiding.

“It was good to get to know you,” Chan figured he was supposed to say, complete with handshake. But they were in so much deeper than that now. He couldn’t imagine ending it so impersonally. Chan could feel his mouth crumpling up as his eyes began to sting.

Changbin moved first, pulling Chan into a tight hug. Warm, grounding, so, so nice. Chan should have asked for one of these earlier. He gripped at Changbin’s hoodie and they stood there, breathing each other in. Changbin dared a stolen, miniscule kiss, a barely there brush of his top lip to Chan’s bottom one. “You—” Changbin faltered, swallowed. “You’re going to take care of him for me, right? While I’m gone?”

Chan pulled back, looked at Changbin, really _looked_. “You want us to—?”

Changbin laughed, a wet thing. “I know we’ve only just met, but,” he guided Felix into the embrace, the three of them creating a world that was just them. Much like they had over the weekend. “I mean, if it works out—and you wanted to, too, of course—Felix and I decided that, if you wanted, you could.” Changbin stopped, licked his lips. Felix nodded at him, red-rimmed eyes wide and clear, an encouraging, albeit small, smile on his face. “You could be our third?”

Chan looked between them, disbelieving. Stared at the hopeful trickle of navy and gold.

“Chan,” Felix said, voice throaty, putting his hands on either side of Chan’s face. “You called us your sun and moon, but you—you’re our sea and stars. Our new path. I really feel—we both do—” a flicker toward Changbin, who nodded, “that we were meant to find you. Changbin and I, we don’t want to lose you.”

Chan could feel that his smile was trembling; his fingers were, too. Still. “I’d love that.”

Felix beamed at them both; Changbin’s smile wasn’t as wide, but it was genuine. He leaned forward and tipped another kiss onto the side of Chan’s mouth.

Changbin whooped loudly, drawing attention to their little huddle, and it was like he drew the color back toward them; the blue sky bathed them, all three, the clouds as light as Chan’s heart. Changbin rushed them both, grabbing them into an awkward, amazing three-way hug that Chan felt down to his bones. “I’m holding you to it,” Changbin said excitedly, lips smushed against Chan’s cheek. “I’m sending Felix tickets for this summer—my summer, not this weird-ass one where I'm wearing tank tops in _March_ —and now you have no choice, you’re contractually obligated to come, too. I can’t wait to see my family’s faces when I tell them I have _two_ boyfriends. Fuck, I love today!”

Then he put his hands on either side of Felix’s face, cradling it gently. “But I’m going to miss you so much.” His gaze flitted to Chan. “Both of you.”

“I know,” Felix’s fingers against the backs of Changbin’s hands, stroking them feather-light. “But we’ll be back together soon. We might not know what the future holds, but we can face it when it comes.” Changbin might have been wiping the tears from his cheeks, but Felix’s smile was the same one Chan had seen all weekend. “Together.”

Chan didn’t hesitate this time. He gathered them both in his arms, a palm on each head as they laughed through tears and cried through laughter. Hearts so unexpectedly full. All three of their chosen paths lying broken at their feet, but that’s okay, because the three of them? They were forging a new one, together.

\--

The End.


End file.
